Chapter 64. Gurgle

A foul, stinking mist spread out from Gurgle as he pecked forward, sending the jeering crowd into overdrive.

Barred metal separated the colosseum observers, and they made for the perfect environment for Abe’s abilities.

Sending his tendrils shooting out in all directions, Abe took hold of the bars and flung himself around, keeping his distance from the abomination at the center. He wanted to see what this thing was capable of before engaging. But the giant, two-head bird didn’t seem to be too bothered about chasing him.

Latched to the wall’s side, Abe’s tendrils reloaded his revolver, and he took aim. It didn’t matter too much whether or not he did damage; Abe just wanted to test how strong its defenses were. 

Firing in quick sucession, he unloaded the cylinder, sending blood and feathers raining as the blasts shattered across its frame. The tendrils were already reloading as Abe narrowed his gaze on the monster.

The tiny wounds scattered across the giant frame of the monster barely seemed to haze it. And Abe was fairly certain he would need barrels of ammunition to finish it this way.

The two beaked heads turned to Abe and screeched. Vibrations rippled through the air, sending him into a dizzying haze. Clutching his head, Abe gritted his teeth against the sonic attack, but his tendrils couldn't resist. The vibrations shook through them, loosening their grip on the cage.

As the tendril's released the bars, Abe went falling from the cage wall. Thudding against the ground with a weak moan, Abe pushed himself up. Before Abe could shake his senses back, a reverberating shrill filled the colosseum, and the two-headed bird thing charged forward.

Flooding his body with deathly energy, Abe flung himself up off the ground as it reached him, but the beak came uncharacteristically fast, slamming into his chest and sending him flying back against the cage.

Bouncing off the metal, Abe fell back down to his knees and readied his blade as Gurgle approached again, spitting an acidic, green substance from its mouths.

Leaping to the side, Abe dodged the attacks and began filling the room with toxic, mushroom spores. 

As he ran, releasing his spores, Abe used the mushroom essence of the ninth stalks to transform, growing several inches every second. His hand quickly grew too large for his sword and fell to the ground, but within seconds, his claws were as large as his sword's blade.

As he felt himself reach the limits of the mushroom essence’s power, he found himself standing about half the height of the towering monstrosity.

That evens things a little.

The spores had a moderate effect on Gurgle, seeming to irritate the giant but not particularly harm it.

Shooting his giant tendrils out, Abe barraged the giant. The massive, hammering strikes pummeled Gurgle frame, but Abe quickly realized the massive drain on the deathly energy his attacks had in his enlarged form.

He was going to need to finish this quickly.

Charging forward, Abe ignored the incoming acid attacks and lunged for Gurgle, grabbing hold of it and digging his claws in. The moment he pierced flesh, he began injecting poison.

The two giant heads continued to peck and spew acid over Abe’s deteriorating body, but he gritted through the pain and felt giant bird's strength waning as more poison was funneled into it.

Releasing his grip, Abe used his stabbing claws to climb the beast’s body. Reaching one of its heads, he took hold of it and dug his fangs into its skull. Gurgle had been greatly weakened by him, but he could feel the damage mounting across his body as his flesh melted away from the acid.

He needed healing, fast.

The bird's head screeched as Abe’s fangs tore through its head and into its skull, its neck pulsing with strength and then falling limp as he bit into its brain and his flesh began to repair itself.

A burning thud slammed into his side, and Abe glanced down to see the second head embedded into his ribs, acid pouring out from its maw and burning away the surrounding flesh.

The crowd’s cheers exploded through the arena. Either they didn’t care too much for this Gurgle character, or a dead head didn’t mean its end.

Concern twisted his face as he felt the beak expanding, trying to rip his torso apart. Sending his deathly energy flooding through his body, Abe wrapped his tendrils around the beak, sending every ounce of strength into it as the white ribbons of flesh encased the angry bird head. If he couldn't keep the beak closed, he was dead.

Turning his gaze on the second head, Abe released the dead one and took hold of it, plunging his fangs into its skull. He could feel the pressure and the burn of acid, but the deeper his fangs cut through its head, the weaker the giant monstrosity became. 

Cracking through the skull, Abe tasted the sweet, invigorating flavor of evolutionary brains, and his body tingled at the temptation of power.

The head was weak, and the tendrils finally overpowered it, pulling it free from Abe's body as he fed.

Stood hunched over the corpse, Abe continued to feed until he felt his strength return. Pleasure had overwhelmed his senses, and as the numbing faded, he realized that the crowd was cheering.

Pulling free the last mouthfuls of brain matter, Abe straightened and looked up.

A foul, one-eyed man with a bare, paper-white chest and the figure of a bean bag stood up to a platform, mic in hand.

“A marvelous display by the newcomer. Were you all entertained by this specimen of a warrior? To think, he managed to kill our beloved champion, Rakima. Please tell the fans. What name do you go by, Champion?”

“Abe, and who the fuck are you?”

“Did you hear that? Our champion's name is Abe. A little anti-climatic, I must say. Nonetheless, there’s more to a man than his name, don’t you think?” The man said, and the crowd roared. 

Why am I entertaining this? Abe thought and shot his tendrils out, using the bars to climb up the wall of the colosseum toward the announcer. As he climbed, he allowed himself to shrink back to his normal size.

Landing on the platform, several armed abominations lunged forward, spears at the ready, but the one-eyed announcer calmed them with a wave of his arms.

“You’re not supposed to be up here,” the announcer said with a wag of his finger.

“Who are you, and what is all this?” Abe growled, glancing around the stadium seating.

“Whoever brought you here is going to need some reassignment surgery. They made a real mess of it.”

“Answer me,” Abe grunted.

“Fine," the one-eyed man sighed. "It's Gurgle’s Arena. MY ARENA. A magical place where we mix and match all kinds of terrors from across the Vale and pit them against one another for the entertainment of my fabulous, paying customers.”

“You mean you build these abominations for the sake of your fights?” Abe’s brow rose.

Gurgle grinned, with fat, purple lips, “Why, of course. Where else can someone go when they think, I wonder if a ghoul with a shark’s head could kill a skeleton with bear arms?”    

The answer shouldn’t have surprised Abe much, not with everything he had seen so far. But there was something particularly grotesque about cutting people apart and sewing new limbs on for the entertainment of a crowd.

“Well, it’s not anymore.”

“Heh, funny. Now, come along. You’re a champion now. It pays well,” Gurgle grinned. "You'll see. I think we'll be good friends."

“No, I mean I’ve taken over above. I’m in control of this little shardworld now.”

Gurgle’s eyes glassed over momentarily, and he glanced across at his abomination guards, two of which hurried off, passing through the doorway at the end of the platform and disappearing beyond.

“Who brought you here?” Gurgle’s glare grew serious.

“Still don’t believe me?” Abe shrugged and a second later, a different abomination came running through the doorway and onto the platform in a panic.

Standing beside Gurgle, the monster whispered something, and Abe watched as the grotesque man’s eye widened.

“Believe me now?”

“Look, you’re making a mistake,” Gurgle said with a tilt of his head. “We’ve powerful, rich sponsors. This arena here is just a tiny part of the regional scene. Our champions go on to fight real champions in the undead realms. Realms like Acheron itself. Think before you make any hasty decisions. You could make powerful enemies here, and for what? This shitty little island?”

Abe took stock of his surroundings. He wasn’t about to just leave, but he didn’t need to go destroying this place either, especially not if it earned an income. After all, he would need to create wealth somehow if he was going to be stuck out in the Vale.

His gaze rested on Gurgle, studying him. He figured the fat man was probably a corpse surgeon responsible for the abominations that manned this place. Useful, but not anyone overly special. He doubted anyone would care as long as they continued to receive whatever this place gave them.

“So, these powerful individuals. What do they receive from you?”

“What do you mean,” Gurgle sneered. “My champions, like I said. Work for me, and you will find yourself moving to the deathly realms. A big manor in Acheron—performing for the lords of the living dead. Not so bad, huh? I can make you rich. Richer than you can imagine.”

“I’ve got a better idea. This shardworld is mine. But I’ll allow you to stay. You can even run this arena as you have been. But you’ll answer to me, okay?”

“You can’t,” Gurgle sneered, but as he did, Abe’s tendrils shot out, digging into the flesh of his abomination guards and dosing them with poison.

The guards fell to the ground in seconds, and Abe stepped forward with a crooked grin, bending his pretty face.

“You sure about that?”   

Gurgle glanced around and fell to his knees, “Master Abe, was it? Lord of this little shardworld. It's a pleasure to serve you.”

“Better,” Abe nodded.